No More Pretending
by NeverWonder
Summary: After Rachel flees from Finn's romantic New York date, he knows of only one way to win her back.


"Rachel, wait!" He called after the tiny brunette, but she just kept running, leaving him standing there in the rain.

_I can't_. The words echoed in his mind exactly the way she said them; he could hear her voice shaking, and he could see the tears filling her dark brown eyes. He begged her to take a chance on him, and she said it again. _I can't. _He wanted to chase after her, but what good would that do him? He'd planned it all out; the flowers, the dinner, the only thing he hadn't planned was meeting Patti LuPone, which was a total accident. Part of him was convinced that meeting her was like a sign from the Broadway gods or something, telling them that Rachel was meant for New York and Broadway and that he was meant to be by her side. But things hadn't gone according to plan, not at all, and she ran away from him. _I can't_. What did that even mean?

It was a long walk back to the hotel, but he'd rather walk in the rain because he knew he was going to cry and at least if he walked he could say that the rain was why his face is wet. The entire walk to the hotel was dominated by those two words and what they meant. _I can't. _Rachel had never said that before, not in the almost two years he'd know her, and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said it. He'd told her that he loved her, that he always had, and then he'd tried to kiss her, which was when it all fell apart. All he could think about was what she meant? She can't kiss him? She can't be with him? Or worse, she can't love him? That couldn't be what she meant. He couldn't lose her. He wasn't sure when he started actually crying, but once it started he couldn't make it stop no matter how hard he tried.

Kurt gave him a dirty look for getting his suit drenched by the rain, but he honestly didn't care enough to argue with him. He was still worried about the potential meaning of _I can't_. Everyone kept asking him the same stupid question, and all he wanted to do was kick something or punch a wall. Both things would be frowned upon in the ridiculous fancy hotel they were staying in though, and he hated the idea of embarrassing his mom while she was on the trip with them. She'd been so excited to get out of Lima, if only for a few days, and he really wanted to tell her that she'd be visiting him in New York some day when he and Rachel moved there; now that seemed like a stupid thing to hope for. Puck was nowhere to be found when he got back to the room, and he was kind of glad because all he really wanted to do was change out of his wet clothes and collapse on the bed for awhile.

He stared at his own reflection, trying to figure out what was wrong with him, but the six foot three teenage guy dressed in nothing but a pair of red plaid pajama pants who stared back at him from the mirror had no answers for him. Pulling on a t-shirt, he dug a notebook out of his suitcase and flung himself onto the bed; a weak smile played across his lips as he ran his hand across the cover. It was covered in shiny gold star stickers, and he was reminded that it had once belonged to Rachel; there were still pages with her tidy handwriting. Flipping past them, he reached the notes he'd written on songwriting; they were messy, and none of it seemed right. He wondered if this was how Rachel felt when she wrote that song for Regionals; the words sort of flowed out of the pen, and he kept scratching out things he thought were stupid. The point of writing the was to say everything he couldn't seem to say; if Rachel could talk to him through music, then the best way to tell her everything was to write a song for them to sing.

Ever since prom things had been weird, and he was pretty sure that was mostly his fault; attempting to punch St. Jackass' face in was probably not the smartest move, but he seriously couldn't stand the fact that he'd had his hands on Rachel, much less his lips. And Rachel sang that song about giving up and letting go, trying to tell him that she wasn't going to hang on anymore. He'd been pretending that they were actually over for way too long, and now it felt like it was too late. No one said how they were really feeling anymore, and in fact, Rachel wasn't really speaking at all. And he was too afraid to tell her how he felt lately. There were so many things he needed to tell her, and he had this terrible feeling that this was his last shot at it. It had happened at the funeral, when Coach Sylvester's speech talked about invisible tethers; he didn't want to lose that connection to Rachel because without her he'd fall into nothingness. Suddenly it hit him, and he frantically began writing again, tears stinging his eyes.

Breakfast was oddly silent, and Finn couldn't decide whether everyone was just tired or everyone was terrified about Nationals. He was sure it was a combination of both, and so he simply hoped things would be better by the time they took the stage. He listened to Puck rave over how delicious the waffles were, and as he glanced across the table at Rachel he hoped to see her bright "pre-competition ready to kick some glee ass" smile. Instead she barely acknowledged him, her eyes focused on the sheet music she'd gotten the night before, and she sipped her juice as she hummed softly. Clearly handing her new music the night before a competition and telling her to learn it immediately did not make her want to jump into his arms and kiss him.

Mr. Schue was going to be pissed because he'd gone behind his back and changed the duet, and Rachel was still fuming because he sort of had Kurt hand her the music at three AM, waking her up to do it. She threw a minor diva fit because her sleep cycle was disturbed and she only had a few hours to learn a brand new song. But if it worked it would all be worth it. He let Kurt straighten his tie for the fiftieth time, and he watched as Rachel paced back and forth in her little black dress, trying not to be obvious as he stared. They were supposed to be the fifteenth of fifty clubs to perform, and now they were next. He was suddenly hit by a wave of nerves.

"Finn…" He almost didn't hear her voice, and it wasn't until he felt the familiar touch of her hand on his arm that he turned around. "Finn, about this song…"

But before he could answer they were being called to the stage, and he watched her walk away; three minutes later they were staring at each other across the stage as Brad began to play, and Finn heard Mr. Schue behind him, clearly pissed that this was not what they had rehearsed. Pulling in a deep breath, he stepped into the spotlight, letting its heat wash over him, and he watched her do the same. Their voices rose in perfect harmony, and for a moment he let his eyes meet Rachel's, wondering if she really understood the words. They hadn't practiced any of the choreography, and so he decided to stick to what they did best, circles. She seemed to follow his lead, and soon they were moving together as if the entire performance had been rehearsed a thousand times. _Will we ever have our happy ending, or will we forever only be pretending? _He saw the tears sparkle in her eyes, and he hated it; making her cry was never his intention, and he couldn't tell whether they were happy tears or sad tears. But he knew they couldn't stop singing, and he couldn't just pull her into his arms and hold her and tell her that it was going to be alright. So he kept singing. _How long do I fantasize, make believe that it's still alive, imagine that I am good enough, and we can choose the ones we love?_ He meant every word, and suddenly he could see it in her eyes, the recognition and understanding.

_Keeping secrets safe, every move we make seems like no one's letting go, and it's such a shame cause if you feel the same how am I supposed to know? _He reached for her hands, pulling her in so that their bodies were inches apart; the music was ending, and he couldn't take his eyes off her, not for a second, hoping against all hope that she'd understood him. The auditorium was silent, and he whispered her name. Suddenly she was standing on her toes, her lips pressed to his and her hands gripping his vest; he was pretty sure everyone was staring, but he was too focused on the fact that Rachel had just pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and was doing that thing where she tugged on it with her teeth. This was not normal Rachel Berry behavior, but, oh god, it had been so long since he'd kissed her. He'd missed the taste of her kiss and the feel of her lips, and the next thing he knew he'd lifted her off the floor, her legs slightly wrapped around his waist; he wasn't sure how long they went at it or when someone pulled them apart, and if he was being perfectly honest, he didn't remember the group performance at all because he was too busy remembering the way it felt to have Rachel in his arms again.

They came in twelfth, which is pretty damn impressive, or so he thought considering that they didn't make it past Regionals last year. Mr. Schue lectured him on the evils of changing the set list right before a performance, and he willingly took the blame. But none of that mattered because they were in the quiet of his hotel room, and he had Rachel in his arms. He let his fingers idly toy with her hair, and he heard her release a soft sigh.

"Finn, about that song, what possessed you to write a new duet with no solos at all, just hours before we were to compete? It was a beautiful song, and I'm so proud of you for writing; I just… I just don't know why you suddenly decided to write it."

"You said the words I can't, Rach, and I was terrified by what they might mean." He whispered the confession, pressing his lips to her hair. "I was afraid that you meant that you couldn't love me. I saw you with St. James, in the auditorium. I was coming to tell you everything, and I saw you kiss him…"

"No, no, no… I didn't kiss him, Finn; he kissed me." She sighed. "He initiated the kiss, and I was confused and kissed back. It didn't… It didn't mean anything."

"Oh." He fell silent for a moment, gently stroking her hair as he collected his thoughts. "I was afraid, Rach; I was so afraid that I'd lost you. I can't lose you Rachel because I need you. Do you remember when Mr. Schue read Coach Sylvester's speech, and he talked about tethers and being tied to someone? It's you, Rachel."

"What?" She lifted her head to look up at him, confusion in her eyes.

"I'm tied to you, Rach, and I have been since the day we met. I was too stupid to realize it at first, and then I tried to fight it; but it's you I'm tied to Rachel, and I'm always going to be tied to you." He brushed her hair away from her face. "It's always been you."

"Finn…" She whispered his name, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know that feeling. I've known all along that you were my other half, but you were moving on and so I made myself do the same."

"But that was stupid; all of what happened between us was stupid. I shouldn't have lied, and I should've been more understanding; I knew how insecure you were about Santana, which was why I didn't want you to know. I never should have gone off chasing Quinn, as if somehow fixing things with her would make things better. It was all just an act, Rach, an act to make it stop hurting."

"I'm sorry; I know I said it five hundred times, but I am sorry. I was wrong and stupid to go to Puck, and I was silly to be so insecure all the time. It's just that, I've always felt like eventually the novelty of dating a loud little diva would wear off, and you'd want to be popular again, with someone like Quinn on your arm. And I didn't think you'd want to move to New York."

"But I don't want that, Rach, and I never want to make you feel like that again." He shook his head. "Being here, in New York City, has shown me all that we can have together. I want a future with you, and I'd go to the ends of the Earth to have that future. So if being with you means being in New York, then I guess I'm moving to New York after graduation."

"You'd do that… go all the way to New York, just to keep us together?" She bit her lip, and the memory of the way she'd tugged his lip with her teeth on stage in front of everyone flashed through his mind.

"Rachel, I'd go to China if it meant keeping up together. There's never been a time when I wouldn't give up everything and go anywhere to be with you. I know I might have given you reason to doubt that, but I want you to know that I love you and that your dreams are my dreams. See, before I met you, I thought I was going to be stuck in Lima forever, and then you walk into my world and completely change my life in the best ways possible. Because of you I'm learning to dream big, bigger than Lima, and I'm going to do my damnedest to be New York good. You deserve New York good, Rach, and I'll do whatever it takes to be that for you."

"You are, Finn; you are New York good, and you always have been. I wish you believed in yourself the way I believe in you." She gently kissed his lips, and it was all he could do not to deepen the kiss. "I've always believed in you."

"I love you, Rachel Berry." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, as she whispered that she loved him too. "Do you think they're ever going to forgive us for screwing up the competition?"

"It was worth it, Finn, even if they never forgive us."


End file.
